Tuesday, October 29, 2013

When one does something like what I'm doing – posting articles that aspire to be scholarly – one has to wonder, why? After all, to say that I have a small readership is probably to exaggerate on the high side. I suspect that I even have an anti-audience – people, primarily academics, who avoid reading things I write because they have not been written by an academic or been peer-reviewed. Robert Higgs – who I have met, and who seems like a nice guy – has scoffed at authors who write on the Internet because they do not have a scholarly outlet that will publish them. Steve Horwitz has declined to respond to criticisms from people who have not had those criticisms subjected to the same academic standards of publication that his work has, and Peter Boettke has made it clear that not being in academia means it is unlikely, if not impossible, that you can add to economics, either in theory or application.

Of course, they don't know the years of tortuous thinking I have gone through to try to resolve the fundamental questions I write about; but even if they did they wouldn't have any reason to pay any more attention. Lots of people beat their heads against walls trying to figure something out, without success, and there is no reason to believe that I'm any different. And besides, I doubt that many of them even believe that the issues I worry over are unresolved or, if unresolved, merit much thought.

One possibility is that I am writing for myself, but in the sense that just isn't so. I really hate writing – thinking is a lot more fun. Writing is just the laborious process of trying to organize your thoughts in such a way that others can make sense of them. I already know what I think and am quite content with my understanding of the world. Putting it down takes time away from doing more thinking.

Of course, I really am writing for myself, because there is no other basis for action. I'm writing because I hope that someone will someday stumble on these ideas, and they will make a difference – that I will have added in some small, enduring measure to the knowledge of mankind. If the arguments I make are less-than-robust, I hope for someone who can take and fashion from them arguments that leave their greatest opponents defenseless. In that case I hope for a great composer to make a symphony from my folk tunes. If the arguments are robust, but the number of references lacking and the consideration of other points of view academically inadequate, I hope for a young person that has the time and energy to fill the gaps.

Although I must say that I feel frustration at the lack of an academic audience, I do not think of it as a conspiracy. The academics I mentioned are honorable and have no ax to grind in my case. It is simply the way of the world coupled with the fact that I came to what I think are interesting conclusions so late in life. After years of being a thought consumer it is difficult, if not impossible, to become recognized as a thought producer.

Monday, October 28, 2013

The appeal of methodological monism – as Popper put it, "the view that all theoretical or generalizing sciences make use of the same method, whether they are natural or social sciences" (1957, 130) – seems undeniable (think Occam's Razor), and it has a number of supporters.1 On the other hand, some in the social sciences – notably members of the Austrian school of economics – suggest methodological dualism or, in the case of Bruce Caldwell (Caldwell, 1982), even methodological pluralism. It appears that these different camps are difficult to reconcile, and to this point no resolution has been found.

When difficulties of this sort arise – where there exist multiple views, all seemingly reasonable, yet
irreconcilable – it is possible that a solution may be found in appealing to a higher level of abstraction. In this case we look to Karl R. Popper's formalization of the scientific method in the following schema (Popper, 1972, 119):

P1 → TT → EE → P2

Where P1 is the initial problem state, TT is a tentative solution or theory, EE is the error-elimination process applied to the theory, and P2 represents the new problem state that has been generated by the process. This concise representation is simply that of a Darwinian or evolutionary approach to knowledge.

In this discussion our focus is on the error-elimination step. If one thinks of Popper's formulation as "the method", the error-elimination step may be modified as circumstances warrant without altering that method. Popper also referred to this step as "attempted elimination through critical discussion" (1999, 13-4). To acquire new knowledge, we always use this method, substituting the appropriate critical component.2 With this understanding we may actually suggest that Bruce Caldwell is a methodological monist, as he specifically states that his reason for supporting methodological pluralism is that theories require different forms of criticism (Caldwell, 1982, 1-2).

Ludwig von Mises, a strong advocate of methodological dualism (1969, 1-2),3 presents a slightly more difficult case. His dualism differentiated the method in the social sciences from that of the physical sciences by asserting that its axioms were a priori true,4 and that criticisms of the logic used to deduce its theorems were the best method of refuting them. A clarification of Mises's approach (Smith, 1996),
explicity identifying and defending its axioms as synthetic rather than analytic, has tied it more closely to the real world. This clarification has increased the credibility of the approach even though tentative theories, in Popper's view, need no justification. To illustrate Mises's emphasis on criticism we offer the following quote:

Man is not infallible. He searches for truth – that is, for the most adequate comprehension of reality as far as the structure of his mind and reason makes it accessible to him. Man can never become omniscient. He can never be absolutely certain that his inquiries were not misled and that what he considers as certain truth is not error. All that man can do is submit all his theories again and again to the most critical reexamination. This means for the economist to trace back all theorems to their unquestionable and certain ultimate basis, the category of human action, and to test by the most careful scrutiny all assumptions and inferences leading from this bases to the theorem under examination. It cannot be contended that this procedure is a guarantee against error. But it is undoubtedly the most effective method of avoiding error. (Mises, 1966, 68)

The critical component in the method is composed of the examination of premises and validation of logic.

When viewed in this more abstract light, Mises's method fits Popper's formulation and does not contradict
methodological monism. This fact is comforting as we suspect that the idea that there is only one fundamental method of
obtaining knowledge is itself an a priori truth.

In a previous post we suggested that Mises was incorrect in claiming that economics was a subject unconnected with any other science, linking the action axiom with Popper's suggestion that "all life is problem solving" and to the science of biology. Here we have claimed that Mises's method fully complies with the scientific method as formulated by Popper, and that it is only the use of an appropriately different approach to error elimination or criticism that differentiates it from the physical sciences. If we have succeeded in our project it seems clear that economic methodology, as described and practiced by Ludwig von Mises, is scientific, and that the resulting discipline of economics is science.

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About Me

Most individuals reading my posts will label me as libertarian, but I named the blog "The Radical Liberal," so some explanation might be in order.
Libertarians tend to believe that there is an abstract, absolute concept of value and justice based upon natural rights. Although I largely agree with the conclusions of libertarians, I do not believe that value and justice exist outside of the subjective perceptions of individuals or that any such things as natural rights exist.
My beliefs are largely founded upon those of Ludwig von Mises, a classical liberal, tempered somewhat with what I learned from Andrew J. Galambos, who called himself a 21st century liberal.